


a night on mt. ooe

by ashforge



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/F, Hate Sex, Pre-Chaldea, sword sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 20:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12991485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashforge/pseuds/ashforge
Summary: The only thing more valuable than the taste of weaklings happened to be their treasures. Each one thought it would bring them good luck, or save them. Hand carved trinkets, sworn talismans. Then the gifts from lords, hoping it would be their last, the mirrors and the tea pots. Shuten always got the best of the pick, whether or not any of them actually knew it. She had an eye for rarity and elegance. A teapot that would look dirty to her companions would be a marvel of modesty and simplicity. A single of its kind that only Shuten in the entire world would own.





	a night on mt. ooe

Even though they were monsters, they worked a lot like humans. They established themselves in a nice defensible area on a mountain, gathered up the worst and the best of the weakest so there’d be no in-fighting and picked at the lords and villages that had no means to fight them. Hell, they even made the same type of demands as humans. Riches and women and wine – they craved the finest each victim had to offer. Ibaraki Douji was smart, too, even if she was as vicious as a mad dog. They’d cause trouble for awhile, then demand protection. “If you want us to stop, then just keep sending us what we want.” That was her best idea, even if it was a conventional one.

Each month, men would send their gold and their daughters out to Ooe. Their finest horses, their family armor, their masterwork swords. Each month, one or two of the oni would break some houses or raze a field so that they knew what they were paying for. Each month, young virgins trembled under the sight of ogres and monsters. Undoubtedly, by the end, their muscles would be stripped from their bones and devoured. Their bones and marrow chewed upon until nothing remained but their memory.

Shuten wouldn’t have it any other way. She did whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. If she felt like killing a few humans, she did. If she felt like devouring a village, she did. No one stopped her, or argued. Ibaraki was almost awed by it, and Hoshikuma and the others were just as pleased. Sure, there were humans who would show up in their mountain armed to the teeth to try and fight them, but she hadn’t yet found her match. Besides that, those were real delicacies. The despair and futility only made their meat more tender.

The only thing more valuable than the taste of weaklings happened to be their treasures. Each one thought it would bring them good luck, or save them. Hand carved trinkets, sworn talismans. Then the gifts from lords, hoping it would be their last, the mirrors and the tea pots. Shuten always got the best of the pick, whether or not any of them actually knew it. She had an eye for rarity and elegance. A teapot that would look dirty to her companions would be a marvel of modesty and simplicity. A single of its kind that only Shuten in the entire world would own.

The whole base became a buzz suddenly, and that only meant that it was that time again. A lord begging for their mercy had sent them something of value. Shuten left her private room and followed the walkways towards the central courtyard. It must have been something impressive since not even a single of her cohorts remained throughout the deteriorated manor. Their bodies were pressed together to try and get a better look and it made almost like a wall between Shuten and the prize itself.

She smiled, and kicked one of the men in front of her with a enough force to nearly snap his spine. The others in the immediate vicinity quickly made space.

It wasn’t the largest cart that was ever sent to Mt Ooe, but it was certainly among them. A cask the size of an ogre sat upon it, the sweet scent of alcohol was drifting in the air. No doubt that was the major reason for the crowd. But not the whole one. It was a bizarre scene, a woman in white funeral garb, wearing a samurai’s helmet to cover her face. More bizarre, her proportions – entirely unfit for a typical Japanese woman. Her kimono did little to hide the exaggerated curves of her chest and waist, and considering the spraying of cheap sake at the cart, it did little to hide what was beneath.

The woman kept her head low, without remark to the jeering, yet somehow her posture was restrained. Quiet, contained. Ibaraki, who had climbed atop the cart and opened the cask, spotted Shuten and waved. “Check this out,” Her smile was infectious, and Shuten approached the cart to examine the contents as well. “There’s so much booze in here, Shuten. We could drink for days.” A holler came from the crowd, and Ibaraki laughed hard.

“Okay! Maybe a day!” She corrected, and received a roar in response.

Only up close did her strange feeling on the woman make sense. Even covered in alcohol, the scent of hers wasn’t quite right. She narrowed her eyes and looked to Ibaraki, who had broken into the crate filled with treasures. Painstakingly crafted pots, silver and gold, swords – the usual fare when it came to bribes. “I’ll take this woman.” Shuten gestured, “and whatever you think I’ll like from there.”

Ibaraki, who had been examining the scabbard on a sword, cast the woman an ugly glance. “E – h, so that’s your type?” Her lower lip stuck out for a moment before flashing a grin. “You’re such a glutton, Shuten. I can’t believe you plan to eat that all by yourself.” Ibraraki tossed her the sword in her hand. “Cut her up and leave us some, won’t you?”

With the sword in one hand, Shuten grasped the front of the woman’s kimono and dragged her to the ground. The woman offered little resistance, not even bothering so much to glance up at her attacker. Her hoards jeered at her more as she passed through them, some being bold enough to reach out and touch, but only enough to grasp at her clothes. Even if they had an interest in her, knowing that Shuten Douji was now her owner, they had some sense of self preservation.

Soon enough they were within the privacy of Shuten’s room. It might have belonged to the lord of the manor when it was in use, but the tatami was burnt and the shoji doors were marked with holes. In neat piles, spoils and riches framed the corners of the room and the treasures took the head as center pieces. A massive gourd filled with the cart’s sake was brought in moments later, filling the room with an odor of drunkenness.

Never one to miss a drink, Shuten had already filled her dish. “Take off that stupid helmet,” she reclined onto her side, propping her head up on her palm. “I don’t know how you’re doing it, but you can’t hide your scent from me, cow.”

With confident slowness, the woman removed her helmet. Black hair, like silk, spilled out and framed her face. Her eyes were hard, steady, and unafraid. While lesser oni might have felt threatened, Shuten continued to sip from her dish. “I meant no disrespect, lord, but my father feared that if you knew of my heritage, you would not accept my sacrifice,” her voice was almost too calm, but once again the words felt related. A half demon like herself had little to fear in so small a space, or at least – she would think so. “I was not loved to be given a proper name. They called me Ushi-gozen instead.”

Shuten let out a puff of air, finishing her drink. Whoever her father was, he had to be well paid to have so much of such a high quality brew. “Ushi-gozen, then. Do you expect me to eat you or let you join our merry band here?”

Ushi-gozen tilted her head, as if the words made no sense to her. Her hands, which sat in her lap, began to wring nervously. Apparently, that was never an option in her head. “My father would certainly prefer if you devoured me. That would be one less thing for him to be concerned about,” she remarked, and her words were cold.

Her calmness was almost irritating. Even with the oncoming buzz, Shuten liked her prey helpless and miserable. This woman was staring her in the eyes and daring her to kill her. Without sitting up, Shuten set aside her drinking dish and eyed Ushi-gozen from top to bottom. “That body of yours is really irritating me, is it the ox part that makes you shaped like that?” She griped, eyes focused on Ushi-gozen’s ample chest. “Undress, I can’t believe that’s all real.”

This jab earned a reaction. Ushi-gozen’s face flashed for a moment with anger. The thought of being killed wasn’t an issue, but remarking on the unusualness of her figure was. Her lips twisted tightly, as if she were resisting some temptation to argue back, but finally her hands settled on the belt of her kimono. With some unsteady jerks, she pulled it loose and pulled her kimono off in a single motion.

When she had said she was irritated earlier, it was more of an exaggeration. Now, though, Shuten felt a hotness in her chest. Not jealousy, really, but perhaps envy. The woman was shaped with impressive muscle and even more impressive fat. Her neck and shoulders were cleanly defined, along with her arms and stomach. Yet somehow, her thighs and breasts were full, luscious and distracting.

It was a body type that wasn’t really the ideal for a Japanese woman, but rather something that simply did not exist. Shuten felt an odd sense of possessiveness and greed. She wanted to own this woman for nothing more than her rarity. There was certainly no other Japanese woman that existed like this but her. Thin blue veins trailed over the top of her ample breasts like painted proof she were alive. This spurned Shuten away from her position to investigate further.

“How excessive,” she marveled, unshyly pressing her hands against Ushi-gozen’s breasts. They were simply far too big to hold, spilling over her palms. She could not even hold a majority of them. Ushi-gozen’s expression went cloudy, and it occurred to Shuten that this was still a woman. “I guess even if they’re big like this, women still enjoy having them touched.” Color flooded Ushi-gozen’s face, and she looked away.

“I’ve never had them touched,” she answered curtly. “You have some nerve.”

A roll of laughter escaped the oni, “you’d rather I killed and ate you?”

Ushi-gozen glowered at her, her redness sinking into her shoulders. Shuten smiled, finding the right seasoning for her dinner. Sorrow and dread were getting overdone anyway. A little resistance might be fun. “Come here, let me enjoy you. There’s only one of you in the world, isn’t there?” She changed her direction, now running her fingers in circles around Ushi-gozen’s nipples. “No man could ever resist touching these, so I assume you’ve never lain with one then?”

A flinch of frustration coursed through her new toy. “You oni always want virgins, shouldn’t that be a given?” She squeezed her arms together to avoid Shuten’s touch.

With her arms tight like that, Shuten reached backwards, taking the gourd of sake. With an expert decanter, she poured a steady stream of sake in Ushi-gozen’s lengthy cleavage. Her other hand shot out, gripping Ushi-gozen’s arms to prevent her from moving. “Ah-ah, don’t let any spill.” She hissed, leaning in and lapping at the newly formed pool. “I’ll let the others eat you alive if you spill. Ah – see, good girl.”

The drink was potent, more potent than any other sake she had drank before. So much so that she didn’t give the strangeness of that another thought as she drank. When she was through, she poured another, enjoying the glittering hatred in Ushi-gozen’s eyes as she did. Eventually, Shuten could release her grip, knowing that Ushi-gozen would remain still. She poured again, this time, sliding right onto the woman’s plush thighs.

Sake buzzing between her horns, Shuten gave into one of her baser urges. Lapping Ushi-gozen’s breasts clean, she opened her mouth and sank her teeth in. Her bite lasted only moments, though, as the woman grasped her by the horn and thrust her away. Shuten lived drunk, so she wasn’t prepared for the fact that her response time had lagged significantly. Before she could rise up, she was thrust against the ground.

“You certainly are a drinker, aren’t you?” Ushi-gozen asked, one hand squarely on Shuten’s forehead. With her other hand, she took the gourd and poured the sake freely on Shuten’s face. “I can’t believe it took you this long to feel the affect of the poison.”

An attack! She should’ve seen it coming. Shuten writhed beneath her, trying not to swallow any more of the sake poured on her face. The woman above her grinned with satisfaction. “You bitch,” she did an exercise in futility, knowing that even if she could break free of this restraint, she wouldn’t make it out alive. Besides, her body burned hot.

Whether she liked it or not, the poison’s effects were leaving her – troubled.

Something that clearly the woman knew, as she trailed her fingers along Shuten’s body as she held her. “No, not bitch. My name is Minamoto no Yorimitsu. I’m going to kill you, so I thought you might like to know that.” The same calmness in her voice that she had from the beginning felt different now. “But you have been very nice to me since I’ve been here. Should I spoil you and let you have one last request?”

Her fingers rested between Shuten’s legs. Raikou’s smugness was almost enough to stop Shuten from responding. Her teeth grit, now fully aware of her surroundings. The shouting in the manor had changed, and the smell of blood on alcohol wafted through the doors. Who else was helping Raikou? She struggled again, but with her strength sapped from her, she knew it was pointless.

There was still pressure on her cunt and a hotness in her body. Raikou’s fingers spread her lips apart, and Shuten sighed despite herself. “Looks like you’ll just take what you want,” she purred. There was something erotic about that though. In this position, where her assassin had her cornered, Shuten could’ve thought of less appealing ways to die. Raikou leaned in, and her breasts pressed down on Shuten’s chest.

“That’s right, but a woman like you won’t mind,” Raikou whispered, and traced the length of Shuten’s pussy. Her fingers were hard, calloused from years of swordsmanship. The combination of that with the delicate size of each one made Shuten trembled. All the roughness of a samurai, with all the precision of a delicious oiran. Shuten felt and heard her own wetness as Raikou ungently began to rub her.

Her body was hot from the poison, dizzying her as well as acting like an aphrodisiac. Shamelessly, she trembled and came – and when the fingers on her didn’t stop, she did it again. Only after four times, did she grow indignant. Soaking wet, surrounded by the blur of booze and blood, she writhed in rebellion. Her resistance was met with Raikou pinning her, straddling her stomach like a horse.

Raikou’s fingers, slick with Shuten’s come, pried her lips open and poured sake in. “Am I not giving you a good time, my lord?” She mocked as her hostage sputtered the drink up. “Or are you the type that prefers cock when being submissive?”

Shuten blew out her nose, freeing the passage of sake. “If all you’re going to give me is the one trick, you ought to kill me now,” she replied defiantly, “a man would’ve at least asked me to suck his cock by now.”

Somehow, the smile Raikou put on was rather sinister. The hand lingering on Shuten’s chin brushed upwards, grasping one of her horns firmly. Then, she leaned completely forward, and the heft of her breasts smothered Shuten’s face as she did. When she pulled back, the gift sword was in her hand. “Kill you now? That’s something I can accomplish, but,” Raikou presented the hilt of the sword to Shuten’s lips. “Now you’ve put an image in my mind.”

The demand was unspoken, but obvious. So filthy and perverted that Shuten almost forgot to act indignant about it. She parted her lips, pressing the flat of her tongue against the handle. It tasted of sweat and dirt, and that only made her want to have it in her mouth more. With Raikou’s grip on her horn, the angle wasn’t ideal, but slowly she took it in. Her mouth was filled with a metallic taste from the kashira and menuki. Throbs of excitement shot between her legs, and a renewed sense of arousal overtook her.

“I see,” Raikou’s smirk was foul. “That’s how it looks.”

Without warning, the hilt was thrust into her mouth all the way to it’s hand guard. The surprise nearly gagged Shuten, and drool spilled freely from her lips. It wasn’t like she had never been with a pushy man before, but this was certainly a unique experience. The tsuba felt cold against her lips, but her mouth was full and hot. Raikou withdrew it slowly, at an angle so that the texture of the wrapping would pull Shuten’s lips backwards.

“Are you having fun, you cow?” Shuten challenged, her voice hoarse. Raikou drew a line of saliva down her chest and over her stomach. Shuten’s lips curled into a grin. “No, you want more.”

The tip of the hilt reached it’s destination nestled on Shuten’s lips. Warm metal teased her slit, and her body had grown so wet with anticipation. “This will be the sword that kills you,” Raikou whispered, running the end teasingly up and down. It drew a breath of excitement from the oni’s lips. “Your last moments will be of begging your executioner for release. Climaxing upon the very thing that will end you.”

“Stop talking about it and do it then,” Shuten wiggled her hips towards the sword. If she was going to die, why not do it beautifully?

Without any delicacy, Raikou pressed the tip of the hilt inside her. Shuten gave a strangled cry. She had thicker things inside of her before, but none quite so flawless. Even with just the tip, she felt hot and filled. With an excruciating slowness, the very end of the katana was pumped in and out of her. The samurai wasn’t joking when she meant for Shuten to beg.

It went on for what felt like hours when it was only minutes. There was a buzzing in her body, a hyper awareness of the situation. She certainly wasn’t above begging, but something about the samurai made her not want to. Her thighs twitched, and she attempted to move her hips in a way to gain more length. However no matter how she moved, Raikou was a step ahead, pulling out just enough so that Shuten’s writhing was in vain.

Raikou clicked her tongue disapprovingly whenever she did, the smugness on her face was deplorable. It made Shuten scowl, frustrated, and want more at the same time. As soon as Shuten opened her mouth to object, the full length of the hilt was pressed inside her. No warning, no sign – she was simply filled completely. A whine of shock and pleasure left Shuten, and she arched her back in response.

The weapon which would end her was the perfect match for her. The right girth, a flawless length – a strange unevenness of the surface. If only things were a bit different, Shuten thought, she would’ve kept that sword and fucked herself every day with it. Despite her lusting, she was still unprepared for when Raikou moved.

She had the strength of a warrior with each thrust. As if the weapon in her hand was a spear, striking Shuten all the way through. First she assailed Shuten with slow, patient thrusts, somehow masterfully hitting all the right spots in a single stroke. She began making her tremble and groan unlike any other lover had managed before.

Never with any warning, her pace increased. If her previous action was an assault, her strokes had become a massacre. Her wet cunt clapped against the now slick hand guard, and Shuten’s vocalizations became erratic. She gasped and whimpered, and she weakly clawed at Raikou’s volumous breasts to urge her onwards. If she noticed the thin wounds or cared about the cuts, she didn’t show it. Instead her eyes were focused squarely on Shuten’s face.

“I have never once told others of my heritage,” Raikou whispered, her pace not slowing in the least. “It never bothered me to hide it, yet now that you have heard of it, I feel strangely liberated. As if I could keep this secret for the rest of my life.”

The drum of climax began beating between Shuten’s legs, and her body was just too charged to speak.

“This is my one kindness to you for that,” Raikou gave a final pump, and it was enough to push Shuten into orgasm. It came to her in a hot flash, filling her with as much dread as pleasure. Her tongue peeked from her lips, nails digging into the palette beneath her. Giving her final few strokes, Raikou withdrew from her.

“Now you’ve ruined it for me,” Shuten complained only to have a dish of sake poured between her lips. “I’ll kill you for that.”

After setting aside the dish, Raikou returned the helmet to her head and tied the cord beneath her chin. Her expression was hard to read, but Shuten felt like she understood. The sword was drawn from it’s scabbard – a fantastic relic, no wonder she enjoyed it so much.

“You can certainly try.”

[…]

“And then she cut my head off.” Shuten leaned onto the table, dish in hand. “I tried to kill her, thinking – hell, my teeth are plenty strong enough to cut through armor, but the damned thing was magic.”

Mash choked on her water, while Ritsuka had to set down her fork. It was lunch time at Chaldea and they were only interested in having a nice peaceful meal. Instead, Assassin was recounting a rather raunchy story.

“Seriously,” Ritsuka exclaimed, pointing at her bowl, “you’re going to tell me about how you were sword-fucked by Berserker right in front of my salad?”

**Author's Note:**

> this one has been on the back burner for awhile, i hope it's up to everyone's standards!  
> if it's not feel free to tell me on my [tumblr](http://ashforge.tumblr.com/)


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